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Month: June 2017

Is this really it?
Just this repetitive shit?
“Man, life is boring”
I think waking up with a jerk from snoring
Is this all there is?
Yes and no, just bit by bit
I guess there are moments
But mostly disappointment
It can’t all be sexy
But why so messy?
Just lookin for a break
Fakin it til makin it
Unless there’s bliss to be found in mundane
I’ll keep digging in the rough then just in case
Meantime I openly complain
With no qualms
Most of the time life is swirling down the drain
I say to myself head, resting on palm
Nodding off
To the land of not
The break from dull routine
Into half dreamy scenes
Then coming back with a start from the in-between
Can’t depart yet, that would be too easy
Welcome back to the suck
You’re better off if you don’t give a fuck
Cuz there’s nothing in this kingdom
But the solemn promise of boredom
Is this really it?
Yes and no, just bit by bit
Keep at the grinder
Write down reminder
There are moments and they’ll come again
Which make the dull look like bigger plan
But damn
I’m so weary
Of the long term dreary
Days and months and years of torture
With only prayers of better fortune
But something comes in
A very feint grin
I’m up to the challenge or I wouldn’t be here
Bring it on life, all the lame
C’mon, gimme your “A” game!
I want to beat the best
From the elite, not the rest
The top devil
Who currently revels
In my quiet misery
Life is a mystery?
I call bullshit
It’s easy to figure, just a bad trip
Don’t waste time lining up for the fair
Cut straight to the hall of nightmares
Take the ride
Pocket ticket stub
You’re on the wheel looking for the hub
And so am I so don’t step on me
You know, I just had an epiphany
Life is hard enough
So I won’t play so rough
And go easy on those
Who are in their own throws
They just don’t know
That they’re having day terrors
It’s not just the night that points out the error
Of getting sucked too much into your story
Let’s face it, no ego, life is just boring
When enough you’ve been humbled
You accept no control and stop stumbling
Buckle in for the ride
There’s popcorn but no prizes
Go round and round
Unpredictable ups and downs
Smiles and inevitable frowns
Until you give up and admit
For now at least this really is it
At least there’s always something to do, think, or dream
Get good at meditating and any moment turns sweet
It just takes persistence and cutting through pain
Transcending anything and being fine with mundane
If you rebel against your prison cell
You’ll make you’re own lovely little personal hell
Try laughing at it instead
And go anywhere you want to in your head
Life’s a real son of a bitch
But I’ll tell you what there’s more to it than this
You just have to stay in the mud
And decide to turn it to fun
Sling pies and build bricks for your hut
There’s nothing else to do but get to know your rut
Every inch, every grain
Makes a new wrinkle on your brain
Pick any point on which to concentrate
Eventually consciousness will elevate
And you see through the solid into the wave
Don’t stop there, keep going
Deeper into the boring
It is a portal into worlds beyond words
But first you have to accept the squirm
Of the repetitive shit
Asking yourself “is this it?”
Like me you forget
You try not to regret
And start again
This time illusion your friend
For now at least
Until boredom leaks
Right back in, but you counter with reason
You are one for any season
Have weathered so much
You must have at least touched
On the secret to happiness
There is none without the opposite
It’s all just happening
Yep, it’s found from wading through this shit
Whatever it is
This muck, this grit
I ask again
What do you think my friend?
If bliss does exist
And you have tasted it
Like I have
What would you say
Even though it is fleeting
Do we have reason
Are we faulting or do we get the gist?
Is this really all there is?
Think about it while I nod off
And let me know, I’ll be in the land of not
When I wake up again I’ll be disappointed
But hope an answer will have me anointed
While I stretch and yawn
You’ll tell me from what we spawned
And that I just came from there
I’ll scratch my hair
What little I have left
Seeing how deft
You are to see under our noses
Holy Moses
The sleeping Buddha awakes
And forgets they made a terminal mistake
The only thing that’s boring
Is to be disappointed by the snoring
Yes this is it
It is perfect shit
And ebbs and flows
King and beggar you will know
So you grow?
I don’t know
That’s one way to say it
But I’m up for this
Pile it on
Not til death will I split
No giving up
I’m settled into that rut
Bored but could be worse
I could be up against
An unstoppable force
Though it often feels that way
For now though
My best is not great
Am I somehow reaping what I sowed?
I dunno
Oh well, screw it
Not today myself blame
While in cycle of melancholy
Live
To live
Another day

This is a transcription of a voice memo I did not too long ago, one particularly existential and lonesome night. It all just spilled out from nowhere, a channeling of nothing. Is it nonsense or the most sane words I’ve ever spoken? Probably yes to both.

A contemplative stream of consciousness (please forgive the grammar since this is a transcript of spoken words rather than a crafted written piece):

Why do I keep thinking that I need something? Like something is missing, or someone? Why do we think that there is something around the next corner or in some conceived future that is really just being imagined in our minds right now as a phantom projection that really holds nothing at all? Is it that we exist or seem to exist and simply cannot cope with not knowing why and we keep trying to fill that gap, that amnesia basically, with content, with stuff, with beliefs? And we follow our impulses thinking they are these cardinal truths, most of us not really stopping to think for ourselves and to question. And you may question surface things but how many of us really question existence itself as the ground of this wanting of something that we feel is missing or somehow not yet fulfilled?

Who or what is to say that you actually exist? It may sound ridiculous but when you deconstruct phenomena all you are left with are these layers. Layers upon layers, built on top of nothing at all. If everything comes from a pure potential of existing then isn’t it still simply a potential that seems to be taking a form? This may seem like a cop-out but maybe you’re not thinking deeply enough. Just because there is self reflexive thinking does not mean there is a self. It does not mean that thinking is any “thing” at all. If you are experiencing your conscious field you seem to know that you are conscious. You seem to know that you are having experiences but what is having the experiences? Point to it. Show me. You can’t. I can’t. No one can because there’s really nothing there.

This is not pessimism. This is the most basic observation of that seemingly self-reflexive thinking. When it turns in on itself paradoxically it does not see a self. And “self” here is limited by language. Existing is aware that it exists but it’s not-existence that exists. It is non-existence, nothing at all, that is aware that it is pretending to exist, that it is pretending to be something. But remember you and I came from nothing. Before you were born you were nothing. Before you can remember, and where that amnesia comes from, is what you really are. What was really there was nothing, this potential; pure potential, not yet manifested. Or simply not manifested because from there, or from nowhere, there is no time. Time and space are a relative construct, a phantom construct, like everything is.

So to have a word like “Nihilism” or to be a “Nihilist” is to simply recognize that the base of everything is nothingness, and at the core of everything is that nothingness. And this does not mean that you become a psychopath, or a sociopath, or violent, or destructive. You may be deconstructive because you are deconstructing things down to their absolute core but when you recognize nothingness you also have nothing to oppose. You have no reason to go against something because you know it’s not something. It’s’ all empty so it’s all one emptiness.

People talk about oneness but they’re really trying to get at nothingness. Nothingness is non-dualistic because it has no opposite. Oneness is non-dualistic because it’s all one field but again it’s a semantic problem. Oneness is one because it’s zero. Zero equals one. And what is wrong with being nothing? Why must we go around pretending we are something? And why must we go around pretending like we need something?
Reduce yourself back to what you really are: nothing, and be aware of pretending to be something with all these other “somethings,” and then you’re really playing the game. Only then can you be free. Call it whatever you want with language. This is the most basic observation, the most stripped-down realization.

I will conquer time and space for this
I am already beginning to
At the omega point
Starting to bend the joint
Transmuting what was, what is
No more hers and his
Soon when all things fail
Nothing left but to flail
In the dark, the great void
Opens up to be devoid
Of all things
Including time and space
Then shall I stand
On thinnest strand
Threading through eye of needle
Need not to meddle
In affairs of man
They will come to me
They will hear and see
Their misperceptions foiled
And I, there at their last breath
At the omega point
I am the alpha

A view of meditating in the woods. My cushion: a comfortable enough rock to sit on. My temple: nature itself. A wide and open awareness extends to all sensations. The birds and their calls, the bugs and how they crawl, the cars not too far away on the roads and how they haul. The air is warm and muggy, the light is bright and sunny, the feeling of sitting here is a bit funny. I would have lingered but did not want to be a deer tick’s dinner. Still, the stillness amidst this little clearing within the woods so near me can be refuge and makes a good tactic for the practice.

I find myself on the fence, in between certain life decisions. Just like this image I find what is in front of me on the balance beam to be clear and free, and yet what is ahead and to the sides is blurry and not yet defined. Staying focused on the grain and trying not to strain seems to be the way to “make it” one day. And what would that mean anyway? We are only ever on the current rail of the fence. Looking to the side and ahead can distract from the beauty and wonderfully flawed dents of the life situation all around us embedded on this fence. Balance and sway. Follow your way. You may feel lost but you are now found. Do not forgot to focus on the foreground.